Branded Read online

A perfect way to get all the innocents to leave so I can blow up this building without causing unnecessary deaths. I just want Locklear and his buddies to witness the whole thing … and I want to bury them under the rubble.

  I run back up and go through the hallway, all the way back to the room with the bomb where I sit and wait.

  “I’m ready …” I whisper. “Come and try to get me, motherfuckers. You’ll never get to me in time.”

  * * *

  Brandon

  I immediately jump up from my chair and tuck my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the fact that someone might pick up. I have to get to her before she does something she’ll regret.

  I march out of my office and go straight into the lobby, passing through the crowds while trying not to look too serious. I don’t want anyone to get frightened, so I won’t pull out my gun here.

  I just hope I catch her in time. Whoever she is, whatever it is she did in that room up on the twentieth floor can’t be good.

  When a whole family decides to get on the last elevator, I stop them and hold up my ID.

  “Excuse me. Security. Step aside, please,” I say.

  The people look befuddled, but then get out of the elevator, and I quickly jump in and press the button about fifty times until the doors close.

  That’s when the fire alarm goes off.

  Fuck me. Did she start a fire? Or is she planning something worse?

  Time isn’t ticking fast enough right now. The numbers on the elevator door creep up as slow as a snail. The moment the bell rings and the doors to the twentieth floor open, I burst out, ready to meet the woman.

  But of course, she’s nowhere to be found.

  Other guests storm past me, searching for an exit. Meanwhile, I’m still looking for that platinum blonde. I’m not letting her escape. This is her doing, I’m sure of it.

  I rush down the corridor to room number 2042 and use my security key card to open the door and gain access to the room. Holding my gun out in front of me, I quietly push open the door. She may still be hiding here, waiting for me.

  With my gun pointed forward, I look around the room. It seems empty except for a pile of bags in the corner near the window. I move closer and open a couple of them. One of them only has guns in it. The others seem loaded with … explosives.

  Motherfucker. That bitch is about to blow up the hotel.

  Adrenaline surges through my veins as I search the room, leaving nothing unturned. A shower is running, so I go into the bathroom and pull aside the curtains.

  When I find it empty, I realize it was a trap.

  As I spin on my heels, something hits me on the back of the head.

  I fall to the cold hard floor, but I catch myself quickly. Turning around, I find the blonde towering over me with a gun pointed straight at my face.

  My eyes widen as I brace for the bullet to pierce my skull. Seconds pass that feel like an eternity. She doesn’t pull the trigger … yet.

  I feel like I’m between living and dying. But nothing happens, so my survival instinct switches on, and I swiftly kick her in the shins. She topples down too, and I crawl on top of her, grabbing her wrists so she can’t use her gun.

  A wicked grin spreads on her lips. “Nice to see you too …” she says. Her voice sounds eerily familiar, but I can’t put a finger on it.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” I growl, holding her down with sheer force.

  “None of your fucking business,” she barks back.

  I feel like I recognize that voice from somewhere, but that doesn’t make any sense. Now I’m starting to doubt my own sanity.

  My thoughts leave me distracted, so when I aim my gun at her forehead, she manages to knock it out of my hand. It lands somewhere on the other end of the bathroom, out of reach.

  “Got you, motherfucker,” she says, and she holds out her gun again.

  BANG!

  The shot goes right past my head.

  Fuck me. She means business.

  A struggle for power follows. We push and shove each other back to the floor. I smash her wrists to the floor, and her gun flies away to the corner of the bathroom. Now we’re on equal ground.

  She scratches my face and smacks me hard, but there’s no point. I don’t lose. Ever.

  Then she kicks me in the balls.

  Fuck. A low blow. Literally.

  I heave as I’m on my knees while she gets to her feet and scrambles to get her gun.

  “I should kill you right now and get it over with …” she mumbles, pointing her gun at me.

  More seconds pass.

  She’s hesitating.

  Why is she hesitating?

  “Do I know you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

  “You should …” she hisses.

  She grabs her sunglasses and takes them off. My eyes rise to meet hers.

  Is it … it can’t be true …

  Son of a motherless goat.

  I mumble. “Dixie?”

  Chapter Nine

  Brandon

  Dixie fucking Burrell. The only girl who ever managed to steal my heart and crush it all the same time.

  I never thought I’d come face to face with her again.

  Within seconds, I’ve grasped her by the legs and pulled her down to the floor. The gun goes off again, but I don’t give a crap as long as it doesn’t hit me. I quickly pin her between my arms and knock the gun out of her hand.

  Then I tear off the obvious fucking wig and chuck it aside.

  “It’s you …” I say through gritted teeth.

  I never thought I’d see her again. Definitely not in this place and definitely not with guns and bombs blazing.

  However, I don’t even get time to ask a single question.

  She butts me in the head so hard I get dizzy. “Yes, it’s me, you son of a bitch.”

  She pries a knife out of her pocket and jams it into my thigh. I howl and immediately reach for the wound while she tries to squirm her way out from underneath me.

  “No fucking way,” I growl, pulling out the knife. I hold it to her throat. “Stay. Still.”

  “Get off me, motherfucker,” she squeals, so I cover her mouth with my hand.

  I can’t believe she’s actually here in the flesh, but now I gotta deal with this situation head on. “Listen, sweets. You’d better tell me right now what the fuck you’re doing here and why the fuck a truckload of explosives are in those bags over there.” I point at the luggage in the room.

  Her high-pitched laughter, like she’s cackling, makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Like I’d tell you,” she scoffs. Then she spits in my face.

  She sure hates my guts, but I won’t pretend I don’t know why.

  I sigh. “Now, now … that’s not a nice thing to say, sweet cheeks.” I wipe off the spit and brush it onto her cheeks.

  “I’m no one’s sweet cheeks, asshole,” she says. “Now get the fuck off me before I—”

  “Before you what?” The left side of my lip curls up. She’s making threats now? She sure is just as feisty as I remember. “From what I can see, you have no weapons, so that puts you on the losing end.”

  She tries to hit me again, but I hold down her wrist. “Nuh-uh. Not happening, sweet cheeks.”

  “Shut your fucking trap,” she says.

  “Still the same foul-mouthed girl, I see.” For some reason, that makes me smile, but I fucking will it to go away. She doesn’t deserve any kindness.

  “And you’re still an insufferable asshole,” she replies.

  I guess neither of us has changed.

  “Since when do you work for Josiah Locklear?” she asks with contempt.

  “Since it’s none of your fucking business. How do you even know him?” I reply. Lifting her from the floor, I pin her to the wall with the knife still jammed against her throat. There’s a more important question that needs answering right now. “How do I stop the bomb from exploding?”

  An evil grin spreads on her lips. “O
f course, you’d like to know that …” She throws a single glance toward her bags. “Like I’d tell you.”

  I grunt and then drag her toward the bed, throwing her down. “What’s your plan? Why the fuck are you doing this? Do you have a death wish?”

  “Maybe,” she replies. “Or maybe I just wanna watch this place burn to the ground.”

  “And let it take you down with it?” I tsk. “I know you better than that. You wouldn’t waste away your life like that.”

  “I have good reasons,” she says.

  “Of course, you do,” I snap.

  When she tries to move, I point the knife toward her. “Don’t even try.”

  “You think I’m afraid of you?” She raises a brow. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Try me,” I retort.

  God, I hate her. I fucking hate her.

  And she damn well knows it.

  I can see it in her eyes. That same disdain. The unhappiness. The stone-cold heart. It’s as if I’m staring at my own reflection in the mirror.

  But there’s still that glimmer of hope in her eyes that resonates within my core.

  Suddenly, my phone rings, and I bring it to my ear. “Not now.”

  As I’m about to tuck it away again, Mateo yells into my ear, “Some girl pulled the fire alarm. Locklear’s been notified. His personal guards are checking the hotel.”

  “For real?” I ask.

  “Yup.”

  Fuck.

  “Where are you?” he asks. “Did you follow that woman I saw on the tape? I had to rewind it to see what was going on.”

  Of course, he did.

  “Did you tell Locklear where she was?” I ask.

  “Obviously,” he replies.

  Well, fuck me.

  I immediately end the conversation and shove my phone back into my pocket. Looking up, I find she’s already lunged away from the bed, reaching for her gun.

  I swiftly kick it out of her hand and pull out my second one, aiming it at her head.

  “Don’t,” I spit.

  She narrows her eyes at me. I can feel the hatred seeping through, but I don’t let it get to me.

  “You made me pull out my favorite toy,” I say.

  “Really? Your dick must be quite useless then.” The smile that follows makes me want to punch somebody. But I’m not the kind of man to lower myself to that. At least not when it comes to women.

  I pull her up from the floor and drag her back to the bed. “Sit. Down,” I command.

  She waits a few seconds before finally submitting … though with a hint of unruly stubbornness. “Well, you only had to ask.”

  I can’t take her seriously.

  I narrow my eyes at her. What the fuck am I going to do now? She’s trying to blow up the goddamn hotel. And I don’t even know how to stop her.

  “I won’t tell you how to defuse it, if that’s what you want,” she says.

  I push the gun against her head. “You wanna die?”

  She remains unmoved and doesn’t even flinch at the prospect of losing her life.

  When did she become so careless?

  The clock is ticking, and I’m getting impatient. I don’t intend to die here. It’s not my time yet. So I grab her by the arm and pull her along with me.

  “Where the fuck are we going?” she asks.

  “Away from that fucking bomb,” I growl back, dragging her through the door. “How much time do we have?”

  She smirks. “About twenty seconds.”

  Fuck.

  I rush through the halls with her in my grasp, still keeping the gun firmly pushed against her side. I need to think fast. There’s gotta be something I can do. Call someone. Anything.

  Because if that thing blows …

  Right as I shove her into the elevator, the explosives detonate.

  I duck for cover and fall right on top of her.

  The whole building shakes violently. The lights go out.

  Debris tumbles all around us, the walls cracking, parts of the ceiling caving in.

  When everything goes silent, I look around.

  It’s a total disaster.

  Water gushes out everywhere, and smoke fills the air. A fire has even started up ahead. Part of the hallway and two rooms are completely gone. Just torn apart, like someone took a bite out of the walls and floors.

  As I straighten, she’s coughing and wheezing from the fallen debris. But we’re still alive, which means her homemade bomb didn’t fuck up the entire building. Yet.

  Maybe it’ll collapse underneath us.

  No fucking way am I going to stick around to find out.

  She’s still staring at her own creation, grinning like a devil at the sight of the destruction she’s caused. “Fuck. Should’ve used more.”

  We get up, and I pull her out of the elevator and drag her along with me. “You’re coming with me.”

  “Why? Are you gonna bring me to your uncle?” she asks, frowning as I haul her through what’s left of the hallway.

  There’s a narrow gap between us and the open air. Wind pushes through the building, flaring up the smoke and flames, making it hard to navigate. But I push on anyway, ignoring her questions.

  Suddenly, after a harsh tug, she breaks away. “I’d rather die than talk to him.”

  She hovers over the gap in the building. We’re twenty stories in the air. No way she’ll survive a fall.

  “Are you insane?” I yell, trying to grasp her hand, but she reins herself back in.

  She’s so damn close to the edge that I’m certain she’ll fall if she gets any closer.

  “Maybe,” she replies, not even looking at me.

  “What are you doing?” I yell.

  Is she actually considering … jumping?

  Because of my uncle?

  “Don’t do it!” I yell.

  She frowns, and for the first time since we met again, she looks me straight in the eyes without playing around. Without all the rage and regret.

  “Why do you care if I live or die?”

  My lips part, but I don’t know what to say.

  Part of me wants this to end, for her to die … but I couldn’t let her go like that. Not without having my way with her first. I want a say in how it ends, and this isn’t it.

  Grunting, I lunge at her and shove her so hard she falls down but away from the hole.

  “What are you doing?” she screams, slapping me and trying to get me to move.

  “Saving your ass,” I growl. “Stop fighting.”

  Her head thrashes from side to side. “Get off me!”

  “Not until I’m sure you won’t try something that stupid again,” I bark back.

  “Why do you even care?” she spits, trying to wriggle out from underneath me.

  “I don’t, but I’m not letting you off the hook that easily,” I say.

  “No! I’m not going to that fucker. Forget about it!” Her hand manages to squirm free, and she scratches me in my face, leaving a nasty gash.

  I grasp her wrists and pin them to the floor, spread out. “I won’t take you to my uncle.” This catches her attention, so I cock my head, and add, “If you behave.”

  She pffts. “Fine.”

  I wasn’t going to take her to him anyway, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  He’d probably kill her on sight, especially when he sees the damage she caused to his precious hotel, but I won’t let him have that honor. No fucking way.

  “Now, are you gonna come quietly or not?”

  She narrows her eyes, a smirk appearing on her face. “Sure. I’ll come … quietly.”

  Fuck her and that fucking double meaning. I don’t have time to play games and definitely not any that involve her coming.

  Though it did cross my mind many times when we were still together.

  Fuck.

  Why am I even thinking about this now?

  The smirk on her face grows bigger. I’m sure she can tell what I’m thinking.

  I immediately get up an
d haul her to her feet. Before she can run away again, I swiftly pull her wrists behind her back and push the gun into the small of her back. “Walk.”

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbles wickedly as if she’s still trying to deceive me. But her charms won’t work on me. That time has long past.

  Chapter Ten

  Dixie

  He drags me down a stairwell and through more hallways until we get to an exit. Brandon’s in a rush as if he’s afraid something bad will happen. As if it didn’t already.

  Half the goddamn hotel exploded.

  I wish more of it was gone, but at least I did some damage.

  Still, I should’ve used more explosives. That fucker Josiah should’ve been buried along with this casino. And that goes for Brandon too.

  Fuck, I never expected to find him here, out of all places.

  Though I shouldn’t be surprised because I knew Josiah was his uncle. I should’ve thought of this sooner.

  Not that I care whether he lives or dies. I hate him to death. Literally, I wish I could kill him. I probably would if I had a chance.

  He’s probably thinking the same thing, which is why I’m so confused as to what his plan is. If he wants to kill me, why not do it now when everyone is still in a panic? No one would notice. I’d be just another body lying in the rubble.

  But he keeps dragging me along while all the sirens blare and the smoke fills our lungs. He doesn’t seem to want to give up. I’m worried he might take me to his uncle anyway, and that I’m going to face endless days of torture until I beg for someone to kill me.

  Maybe that was his plan all along. I may deserve it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t fight it tooth and nail. I’d prefer to go down my way.

  I should’ve perished when that bomb detonated.

  That was the plan, and I’d committed to it. Everything was going just as I had in mind. This was going to be my magnum opus. A final shot at proving my worth to my dad.

  And then it all went to shit … because of him.

  Brandon Locklear. The only man I wish I’d never met.

  I still regret the day I first set my eyes on him.

  Way back when during a school break outside on the playground where he was burning grass. Always obsessed with fire … he was already dangerous back then and still is to this day.